


Zoe's Story

by RewriteThisStory



Category: Hart of Dixie
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RewriteThisStory/pseuds/RewriteThisStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was editing George's Story and a new ending/story came to me- this story also starts during Walking After Midnight but will follow mostly Zoe's POV. However, it will not have the same result as George's Story- or the TV episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to fanfiction.net on Nov 16, 2012. This was the 2nd fic I ever wrote- it needs some serious reworking in places, but I'm posting it here anyway. (Also, something weird happened with formatting and a lot of the dialog mashed into a single paragraph in places. I'll fix that eventually- probably.) 
> 
> I was editing George's Story and a new ending/story came to me- this story also starts during Walking After Midnight but follows mostly Zoe's POV. However, it will not have the same result as George's Story- or the TV show. The first 2 chapters mostly follow the episode (like George's Story), but then things will start to change.

So, the last week has been weird. Strange things keep happening at my house. Things have been moved around, there was a sock in my underwear drawer and the other day- a strange toothbrush showed up in my bathroom!

Lavon thinks Wade is being funny, but he says it's not him… and for once he seems sincere.

I've decided to catch the creeper myself. I have a webcam and (like any good New Yorker) pepper spray. This ends now.

/

I lay down in bed- can of pepper spray in hand.

I feel like I have just fallen asleep when I sense someone trying to get into my bed! I don't think- I react. Take that! Right in the eyes! Suddenly, I realize I recognize the agonized voice… at the same time my sleep clouded vision clears enough to verify who I've just maced- GEORGE!? 

Crap!

"What were you thinking?! I could have seriously hurt you!" I chide him. Angry at myself for injuring George- again. Angry at him for scaring me. And above all, flustered- WHY is George Tucker in my house in the middle of the night?

"You did seriously hurt me! Oh my God, how did I get in here?"

"Very funny…" Wait, is he joking? The pain seems overlaid with genuine confusion. "No, I'm serious, what did you do to me?" he demands.

I'm sorry, did he just ask what I did to get him in my house in the middle of the night? "What did I do to you?!"

"Yeah, last thing I remember is going to sleep in my own bed…" My anger is subsiding.

"Are you drunk?" Maybe that would explain this strange behavior- George isn't the 'come over uninvited type'…

His voice goes up an octave, "No! But, to be honest with you, I am freaking out a little bit! Ok...? I mean, I'm really freaking out! This is…"

I cut him off, "Ok, we're gonna figure this out. Has anything else strange been happening to you lately?"

He squirms, "Thursday I woke up with candy corn in my hair and last night I woke up at the gas station… in my underwear…" There's a mental picture for you… Why wasn't I at the gas station last night… Focus Zoe! Suddenly, it all makes sense. I put my hand up to tell him to hold that thought and run to my bathroom. "Uh, where you goin'?"

I return, brandishing the mystery toothbrush. "Is this your toothbrush?!"

"YES! I've been looking for that! Wait… why do you have it?" His confusion is adorable- How is it possible to be that cute when your eyes and nose are running? No, I did not just think that. 

Monogamous with Wade, remember?

Back to business, I'm completely confident in my diagnosis, "George, you have been sleepwalking." Mystery solved Scooby-Doo.

He snatches the toothbrush out of my hand- didn't his mother teach him that was rude? "NO, NO, NO, NO…" "Oh, yes." "That's impossible. I stopped sleepwalking when I was 9 years old."

Aww, he's embarrassed- well that doesn't change the facts, "So, there's a history. Have you started taking any new medications, or have you been eating anything different?"

"Candy corn?" he offers.

Well, no, that wouldn't do it. "Alright, listen, in adults sleepwalking is usually caused by stress. Has there been anything stressing you out recently?"

"No, actually everything's been great…" Everything's great huh… SO glad you're enjoying the attention as Bluebell's most eligible bachelor... BAD ZOE! He continues, "I've been enjoying life on my new houseboat…"

That snaps me out of my jealous reverie, "I'm sorry, did you say houseboat?"

He grins at me, "Yeah." His dimples… are NOT what I should be focused on!

My concern flares into anger again. "Are you kidding?! Do you know how dangerous it is to sleepwalk when you're on a houseboat?!"

The implication of my words crashes over his head like a water balloon, "Oh my God, you're right!" He is seriously cute when he's startled.

"It's alright, we just have to figure out what's causing this. How about tonight, I come over, attach an EEG machine to you and watch you sleep?" That sounds a lot more creepy out loud than it did in my head.

He noticed. "Ok, normally that would sound super fun," he laughs awkwardly, "but there's a Halloween party tonight. So… "

Weird or not, we need to figure this out before he hurts himself. If direct didn't work, let's try this. "Alright, well good, you know, go to the party, have a couple beers and then go to sleep." 

"Alright. Thank you Zoe." Cute, he thinks I'm sincere. Sarcasm must not have been taught in his law school. I lay it on thick- "Mmm hmm, you probably won't end up in the middle of the Gulf, but just in case," I pat his arm, "wear a life vest." I give him a hard look.

Unamused, he relents, "See you tonight, Doctor." So he does get sarcasm.

Not to be outdone I call out, "Happy Halloween!" in my most chipper voice. I bet he had a date for the party tomorrow night. Too bad for you. Mental head slap- I had one too.

/

I dreaded telling Wade our plans had changed- to no plans. I ESPECIALLY dreaded the inevitable 'why'. He was 'thrilled' with the idea of my spending the night with George.

I arrive at the houseboat- my conversation with Wade still ringing in my ears. I will be strictly professional tonight.

After George let me in, he just turned and walked away! Odd... Not important. This is just business. I follow, explaining how the test works. "So I'm going to be taking notes on anything you do, and I'm going to follow you if you sleepwalk." He hasn't looked at me once. I press on. "And hopefully we can discover what's been stressing you out. The most important thing is, to try to stick to your routine as much as possible." Finally! He turns around, it was starting to feel like he was ignoring me. I smile at him. I know this is a little awkward, with our history together, but come on, we're adults right? I'm a doctor- we can do this to figure out what is wrong, and to keep him from getting hurt.

"Ok, well, uh, my routine doesn't usually have you following me around all night, so…"

"You won't even notice that I'm here," I assure him earnestly. He looks skeptical. Trying to push past the elephant in the room, I ask as lightly as possible, "So, what would you usually do next?"

Clearly he's not trying to keep this professional… looking me square in the eye, he starts unbuttoning his shirt. OhmyGod! I can't help but follow his fingers as they descend. Wade's face flashes in my head. I turn away to clear my head.

Stumbling over my words, I try to find a safe place for him to change. "Ok, uh, how about for tonight you change maybe… uh, over there?" I direct him toward his bedroom. I firmly fix my eyes ANYWHERE but his shirt. As if I hadn't dreamed about this moment… what is he DOING?

He moves toward his room, but I'm in his way. I try to make myself as small as possible against the counter so he can get by. He stops in front of me- he is very close. He looks down at me and murmurs, "You really think this is a good idea?" He is really close, I'm having a hard time focusing, and a harder time NOT looking at the gap in his shirt. Man, I'm failing at not staring.

As calmly as I am able I finally say, "It's, um… our only option at this point." Damn, the um gave me away. I lift my head and look him squarely in the eye. I feel like this is a staring contest. He blinks first. I begin breathing again- I didn't know I'd stopped.

He turns away, "Ok… Whatever you say, Doc." He sounds a little dejected. There's a pang in my chest. I'm trying so hard to be fair to Wade, and George is making this VERY hard.

The sympathy quickly evaporates though. As he climbed the steps to his bedroom, HE TOOK HIS SHIRT OFF! In my mind, I've seen shirtless George, but never in person, WOW… I resist the urge to follow him. I clear my throat and try to gather my thoughts. Wade, Wade, Wade.

George's cell phone chimes. He has a text message. I can't stop myself, I pick it up. I read aloud, "Someone named Daisy," seriously? Daisy? Like Duck? "Wants to know if she should be a sexy nun or a sexy referee?" Laughing, "Really, those were the only choices?" What costume company dreamed those up?

"Darn it," I look up at the sound of his voice. Mistake. He's suddenly there, leaning against the doorframe in only his undershirt and boxers, "I forgot to tell Daisy I couldn't make it tonight." Daisy's ridiculous name, costume and the fact she has a date with George are all erased. George's arms, chest, body are all I can see. Again, Wade's face flashes in my head.

"Bedtime!" I call out, the false cheerfulness is back- what is this voice? "Get in bed." I order him. That's no better. I'm sure he can tell I'm flustered. GET IT TOGETHER HART!

He lays down. "Scoot over a little." I nudge him.

As I wait for him to get settled, I glance around his room. This is the first time I've ever been in George's bedroom. Not how I expected it would be going… ZOE! Then I notice something, surprised and trying not to drool at the mental picture I ask, "You were going to be a firefighter tonight?" He turns to look, "Yeah… why, is that… It's stupid isn't it?"

We lock eyes. His intense green eyes are not helping my mental clarity. No… it is many things, but it is NOT stupid… I entertain the idea of postponing the study until after the Halloween party… it's not too late and we could be back in time for him to get SOME sleep… NO!

"No." Again, I shake my head to clear it, I have to stop that, I'm going to rattle something loose. I smile at him, trying to project composure I don't feel. "Ok. Alrighty." It's a process ok? If you were in bed with George Tucker, picturing him in a fireman's uniform would you be able to form a coherent thought? Don't judge.

Moving on, "Can you hold that there for me?" I press the EEG box to his chest. "Yeah," He sighs. I begin hooking George up to the machine. I try not to think about the fact that this is the first time I've touched him since he called off his wedding… for me… and showed up at my door… in the rain…

"You really think this is gonna work?" His voice breaks through my musings. "Sure," I say distractedly. I can still see him standing in my doorway. I wonder what he's thinking of right now. "Now go to sleep," I tell him gently.

"Just…" he trails off. I try to smooth things over. "Yup. Just pretend I'm not here." He's got to think I'm being odd. Maniacally cheerful one minute, bossy the next and too distracted to know my name the following.

"Yeah," he snorts. "That's gonna be pretty much impossible." Apparently, he's affected by my presence too- dangerous territory, best not visited. I give him a warning look. He points to the living room, wordlessly ordering me out of his room, with a smile. "Goodnight Dr. Hart." He's being odd too. When did things get so formal between us?

I sigh as I settle in a chair, notepad in hand, trying hard to focus at the task at hand. "Sweet dreams!" I call out. There's that voice again. He gives me a sarcastic thumbs up, eyes closed. It used to be so easy between us. How is it possible that things got MORE complicated when he was no longer engaged… it's all just so wrong.

I think of Wade again, and then George. I feel a headache coming on. Coupled with exhaustion and the late hour I begin to doze.

/

I wake suddenly and realize George isn't in bed. I'm worried he could be hurt and I panic. Without thinking I enlist Wade to help in the search. Probably should have thought that one through…  
George wasn't at my house. I was sure that was where he'd be. (Wade took that well…) We return to the Rammer Jammer and George walks in, looking a bit like a zombie. A hot, firefighter zombie…

He sees me and smiles- and introduces me to the famous Daisy as his girlfriend. Man, I wish Wade wasn't standing right behind me. Especially not when George pulls me close and grins down at me.

With Wade's help I get George outside. My heart sinks a little when Wade, as always, tries to make a joke of his real feelings, admitting he knew George dreamed about me, but never thought he'd have to participate in one of his dreams. I wish he'd let me in. I wonder if that's how my last boyfriend felt. That thought pulls me up short.

George brushes off Wade's help home and I'm on my own with Sleepwalking George.

/

I get him settled in a chair on the deck of the boat house. I get a drink of water as I ponder George's words. Girlfriend. I decide to get him back in bed. I think the sleep study is concluded. The cause of George's sleepwalking is now obvious, but I need time to process the results. I've tried hard not to think about George these last few months- which is easier when we're not together. I'd like to go home, to think in private, but when he wakes up he'll want to know what happened. What am I going to tell him?

First things first, he probably shouldn't sleep outside. I pat him on the leg, "Alright, come on, let's get you to bed." Sleepily, he stands up. Hmmm, Sleepy George is cute. "Ok," he nods. He looks down at me, I feel so small beside him. "You going to bed now?" he asks me. I smile and nod. "That's a good idea, it's been a long day and I am… very tired." He takes my hand and smiles. I look down at my hand cradled in his. A jolt of electricity shot through my arm. Shocked, I look up. I can't stop myself, I ask, "So… we're together huh? He gives me a funny look, "Duh. You're actin' weird…" I need to know more. Trying not to alarm him, I whisper, "George, are we happy?"

Taken aback, but with certainty, "How could we not be?" He smiles and leans toward me, "Zoe, you and I…" he leans closer, I'm mesmerized by his face and words. I lean toward him. "We belong together," he says simply. Our eyes close, and his lips touch mine.


	2. Chapter 2

Our kiss deepens. All thought ceases.

Suddenly, George wakes up- his eyes fly open and he pushes me away. "WHAT is going on?!" I look down and unconsciously touch my lips as I try to think of an answer. It's very hard when all I can think is, I KISSED GEORGE. Then, Wade's face flashes in my mind. Guilt. I am a terrible person.

He's still staring at me- dumbfounded and waiting for an explanation. "Zoe?" "Let's go inside," I suggest. I head to the kitchen to make some tea. Buying time. Hoping he'll let me gather my thoughts. No such luck.

He follows me, "Zoe? What happened tonight?" Umm… I took advantage of an unconscious person?

I hand him a mug of tea. I try to keep it light. "You had quite the adventure there Fire Chief." His mouth quirks up, but that doesn't really answer the question. Still trying to form a coherent way to explain the evening and our kiss, his cell phone dings. Saved by the bell.

"Oh, it's from Daisy," he says, surprised. "Hey Jerkface, why didn't you tell me you… had… a… girlfriend?" I wince as he pauses on each of the last 4 words. "I call foul."

"What the hell?" he demands. I decide to play dumb. "What, huh, oh! She was dressed as a sexy referee." I try to laugh it off. No luck- he is undeterred. "No… Zoe, what girlfriend?" Damn.

"Oh." Let's do it quick, like a band-aid. "Well, as it turns out, in your dream state, you are in a relationship."

I'm not getting off the hook that easily, "With…?" he prompts. "Hmm?" I stall. Shouldn't that be fairly obvious? More forcefully this time, he asks again,"WITH…?"

What can I do? I shrug, "Me." Reflexively, I smile at the thought of George and I in a relationship. 

Wade! Crap. I need time to think!

I look at George. He looks like he's about to be sick. Is he repulsed by the idea of being in a relationship with me? I'm confused. But, I need to explain things to George. "If I had to speculate, you know, as your PHSYICIAN," I don't want him to think I've come up with this diagnosis because I still have feelings for him. "It might mean that a small part of you is still hung up on me…" That's good, make it sound casual. I continue, "Which would probably explain you walking into my house in the middle of the night and leaving your toothbrush…" my mouth twitches in a half smile at the thought of his toothbrush in my bathroom. He looks like he's in pain. My smile vanishes.

I fall silent. The silence seems to go on forever. It was probably only a few seconds. But it felt like an eternity. He takes a deep breath. "Well, it's not really that big of a surprise is it?" he asks huskily. What does he mean? Where is he going with this?

"Zoe, a part of me still is 'hung up on you.'" Why did he say that like it tastes bad? Why won't he look at me? "Like a big… big part." Finally, he looks at me. "Like pretty much most of me, like all of me." Oh crap, I'm not ready for a big declaration of feelings! I don't know what mine are! I mean, I know how I feel for George, but then there's Wade… "The question is..."

Why won't he stop? Then, I remember that I did just kiss him, so I suppose I brought this on myself… He leans forward, "Why AREN'T we together again?" His green eyes burn into mine, demanding an answer I don't have. My mouth moves but no words come out. Run! My mind screams.

I get up without speaking and head to the kitchen, leaving him slumped in the chair with no answers. I am such a coward.

/

Hoping to get home and think before the conversation continues I quickly pack my bags. 

"Hopefully if you let some of this stress go, the sleepwalking will subside. In the meantime I'm going to prescribe a mild sedative."

I hear him moving around behind me, but he hasn't spoken. Good. I'm almost done.

I sense him stop behind me. His voice cracks as he says, "So that's it, huh?" I can't face him. "Zoe, we kissed tonight, I KNOW I didn't dream that."

I know it's unfair to give him so little, but I don't have the words to explain myself. "I don't know what to say."

"To start with, why don't you answer my question?" he prompts me. I can hear the pain in his voice.

I whirl around, "Come on, George!" Don't make me do this now!

"I'm serious," his eyes pierce through me. I feel like he can see my equivocating heart.

"You think I'm not still hung up on you too? As you noticed, I kissed you back!" Ok, I started the conversation that led to the kiss, but thankfully he doesn't know that.

"Well, I don't know. Uh…. Are you?"

"Of COURSE I am," I say- how is that not obvious? "But I meant what I said. We have to think in terms of the long game. Now is not our time. I can't be your rebound. I can't get my heart broken by you again!" I wince as I say the last- that was unfair to throw at him. He was trying to do the right thing by Lemon, I know that. Not that it made my heart less broken… I still wonder what would have been if she hadn't climbed the roof of the church.

"K, Zoe and I'm doing everything I can to make sure that does not happen. I'm out there 'sowing my wild oats.' I've… been on THIRTEEN dates in THREE weeks."

Seriously? Are you bragging? I told you to date other people, not date every girl in 2 counties! "You can't just go through the motions biding time until you can be with me… that is NOT moving on! And if you haven't moved on, how can I NOT be your rebound?!"

"Then, what exactly is it that you want from me?" he demands.

I sigh, and take a deep breath- "Maybe, to help you move on, to stop thinking about me, to SLEEP, you need to be with someone you actually feel something for." Did I really just say that? 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I mentally berate myself.

He straightens up, anger flashing in his eyes, "You told me to date other people, to find out who I was without Lemon. I've done that. I know that I want you. There is not one girl that I've had an entire date with that captured my attention the way you did in 5 minutes when I first drove you into town. It took me a while to figure it out, but you're the one I want. I WANT to think about you. I'm done 'dating around'. I'm not going to try to 'feel something' for someone else. The only person I want to have feelings for is you."

I'm speechless. He takes advantage of my weakness and moves closer. But when he speaks, his voice is raw with emotion, "It sounded almost like you want me to move on, not just from Lemon, but YOU. Is that what you want? Have YOU moved on from me? Is there someone else?"

I'm overwhelmed- by the questions, by his nearness- I don't know which question to answer first, or HOW to answer. I look down and take a deep breath. "No, I don't want you to move on from me," I mumble. I pause, deciding what to answer next. He interrupts, "So then, what's the problem? WHY can't this be 'our time'?"

I look up at him, "I'm kind of seeing someone." Silence.

He backs away, stunned. "I see… Is it serious?" I can see the pain etched in his face. I look down again, I can't bear to see him look like that and know I caused it. I want to comfort him, but I need to think. Maybe my honesty will help. "No, but it's what I've needed." I meet his eyes.  
He nods. "Ok," he says quietly. He pauses. "So, where does this leave us?" Good question.  
"I know you want more answers right now, but I don't have them. I need to think. I need some time. And I need to talk to W…" I stop myself.

Too late. A shadow passes over his face. "Wade. Of course." He shakes his head trying to erase my words. Lifting his head to look at me, new determination in his eyes, he tells me, "Zoe, take whatever time you need. I'll be here. But don't ask me to continue this farce of dating other people." He stops as if something painful has crossed his mind. "But, if you do decide your feelings for me have changed, please let me know."

"George…" I don't know what to say. "Thank you for understanding." I pause, wanting to say more, but it's late and I REALLY need to think, alone. "Goodnight George." I gather my things and walk toward the door.

He's disappointed, I can tell. But surely he'll speak again before I leave?

"Goodnight Zoe," I hear him murmur before I close the door.

I head home, to my bed and hopefully some clarity.


	3. Chapter 3

I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, reliving the last 24 hours. George sleepwalking into my room, my conversation with Wade about doing the sleep study with George, the tension between George and me, shirtless George… I dwell on that for a moment, firefighter George... George's dream relationship with me, Wade's reaction to it (or lack thereof), my kiss with George…I linger on that memory for a while… George's declaration of his feelings for me-twice really… man, he really laid it all out there…there's no hiding from it now- pretending things are fine between us… My cowardly fleeing and my confusion in the face of all of this. That's a lot of information to get in 24 hours.

I realize sleep will probably be impossible. I need to do what I've avoided for the last several months. Examine my feelings. Heck if I'm being honest with myself, I haven't just avoided that these last few months, I've avoided that my entire life.

In my head I keep seeing George's face, raw with emotion and hearing his voice, "It sounded almost like you want me to move on, not just from Lemon, but YOU." I hear my response, "No, I don't want you to move on from me." And his blunt, "So then, what's the problem? WHY can't this be 'our time'?" And, "Why AREN'T we together?"

I hear Wade, laughing off his feelings, a thousand times. I think of my epiphany outside the Rammer Jammer. In six years with my ex, I never opened my heart to him. I held him at arm's length, just as Wade is doing with me. I now know how frustrating that was for him.

Thinking back to when I callously reminded George he'd broken my heart once, I laugh at the irony. Six years with one man didn't break my heart, but eight months of friendship and one date with another was able to. Life is funny.

A dark thought crosses my mind. Maybe I'm incapable of choosing the relationship that is good for me- meaningful and fulfilling. I pursued George when he was unavailable. But when he cancelled his wedding- for me- I pushed him away. I ran to the guy who is as emotionally unavailable as I am. I spent six years with a man I didn't love, because I never let him in, because it was easier not to deal with the complication of feelings-safer, I couldn't get hurt. Can I even be with someone that cares openly for me, and more than that, can I acknowledge and show my feelings for him as openly? Especially knowing that I stand a chance of getting my heart ripped out- and now that I know how it feels… can I go through that again? Do I WANT to? Scary.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, pondering a future the same as my present. I hear Brick's words, "You can shut yourself off from all that if you want to, it's your choice, but don't call that livin'."

'Your choice' echoes in my head.

My choice. MY choice… I don't HAVE to be this way. People can change- look how much I've changed in the last year! Fear pulls me up short. It will be hard. I wasn't lying when I told George I didn't know HOW to be in a real relationship. But he knows that, and clearly, he doesn't mind trying anyway. Heck, he's the KING of the long relationship… maybe he can teach me. I really don't want to hurt him though. What if I regress, shut him out? I'll have to warn him, beg him to help me- to tell me when I'm closing off. 'Baby steps' he said. I want this to work. And when I want something, I can make it happen- I just have to work at it. I don't want to be in an empty, emotionless relationship for the rest of my life. Wow, what a difference a year makes.

"Why AREN'T we together again?" The reasons seem silly now. Well, not the getting over Lemon and finding himself parts. But the rest, that was all me. Not him. It was MY fear, my insecurity. He needed time to heal, but I needed to open my heart. Maybe now IS our time. I guess that's up to me. He made it clear he thinks so. "Like all of me."

So what do I do now? I guess I need to talk to Wade. I groan inwardly. That is not a conversation I look forward to. Do I tell him that George and I kissed? He'd never know. No, I'm not that kind of girl. If I hope to maintain his friendship, or earn it back one day (more likely)- and I do want us to be friends- I need to be honest. About both my feelings AND my actions.

Tomorrow. I'll talk to him tomorrow. I should really get some sleep.

/

But tomorrow comes and I find ways to avoid the conversation. I'm still a coward. Some things don't change overnight. I know he works all day Friday and Saturday, so I avoid it for another two days. Work has been busy for me as well, so it's easy to think about other things. Besides, I've had so much practice…

/

Sunday morning I knock on his door- I know he doesn't work today. He smiles at me. Other than running into each other in Lavon's kitchen we haven't seen each other since Halloween. I guess since we're 'causal' this hasn't concerned him much. I figured he'd demand to know what happened with George- maybe he doesn't want to know as much as I don't want to tell him. But in the interest of personal growth… here goes.

"Hey Wade, can I come in?" "Sure, Doc." He opens his door. I walk in and sit on his couch. "Can we talk?"

/

I leave Wade's house saddened by the fact he STILL can't admit his feelings for me. He brushed off my admission as, "Well, I knew it wouldn't last, but was fun while it lasted." And, "Really, I'm relieved. I was kinda tired of waiting for it to happen, to be honest." I hope one day he can let someone in. He deserves happiness too. He deserves to be someone's first choice.

Boy, I should get off my high horse, I just decided to let someone in 3 days ago- and I haven't even started that journey yet. But I'm ready to try.

I pull out my cell phone and dial. "George, can we meet for dinner? I need to talk to you about something."

I can hear his hesitance on the other end. He's still hurting from the other night. I hope I can start to set that right. "Sure, Zoe."

We make plans to meet at the Rammer Jammer later. His house would be awkward, Fancie's would seem too much like a date, as would leaving town. I just want to talk first.


	4. Chapter 4

I arrive at the Rammer Jammer early to secure us a booth in the corner, away from the crowd. Even so, I'm glad Wade isn't working tonight, we parted amicably, but that would be a bit awkward.

George walks in, and looks around the room. I wave at him from the corner. He sees and joins me. I called this 'meeting' and yet I'm not sure where to start. "So, what's up Doc?" We laugh at his unintentional joke. The server takes our drink order and George and I make small talk. When she returns with our drinks and takes our food order, I procrastinate- I am such a coward. I ask him about his week. We talk, about everything, about nothing. It's easy.

I can tell he wants to ask why I called him for dinner, but he's been patient. We pay and leave. Not wanting the night to end without talking about us- the whole reason for inviting him to dinner- I suggest walking to town to get some coffee. He agrees, but his patience for me to get to the point is waning.

Coffee in hand, we walk toward the square.

"So, you said you wanted to talk to me about something? I doubt it was Mr. Dean's twisted ankle," George points out.

Gripping my cup, so tight I'm afraid it may break, I nod. "George…" I trail off. I can do this. I can open up. A mental picture of my future surrounded by cats prods me along. "George," I say more certainly, "I have done a lot of thinking since Halloween." He cocks his head and looks at me. We reach a bench and he gestures, asking me to sit. We do. I take a deep breath- sitting is good.

I plunge right in. "I ended things with Wade." His eyebrows go up, but he says nothing. I press on before he can interrupt. "After I left your house that night, I lay awake all night thinking. I thought about my past and my future and I realized I didn't want them to be one and the same. I'm a mess. I've never had a real relationship because I've always been afraid of letting someone in."

"I realized that I was with Wade for exactly that reason- it was easy- neither of us wanted the mess of feelings." I pause to catch my breath, it's all coming out in a rush. "I've never let myself care for someone the way I care about you and it scared me. So, I ran from it. I came up with lots of reasons we shouldn't be together," I hesitate, "and while some of them were valid, most were born from my fear. But I decided I'm tired of empty, emotionless relationships. I want to connect with someone, to have something meaningful." I smile, remembering, "Someone told me not long ago that if I shut myself off from others, that's not really living, and they're right. I want to try- even if it means that I could get hurt."

"Zoe, I…" George tries to interrupt. I wave him off. "Please, let me finish." He nods. "I kept hearing you in my head, over and over ask 'why AREN'T we together again?' and I didn't have a good answer anymore. George, I want you, I don't want you to date other people. Watching you go out with other women was torture. I was lying to myself. Yes, you needed to get over Lemon, but I was pushing you away from me because I was scared." I catch my breath- I feel like I've run a mile. But, admitting this is easier than I thought it would be, "I was scared of how deeply I felt for you, because I've never allowed myself to feel this way before." I look up at him. He smiles at me, waiting to see if I'm done. "But I'm ready now, I want to have a real relationship. And, I want it to be with you. But I'm going to need help. If I start to shut you out, you have to tell me." I'm finished, but he waits, not sure if I'm done. "So, what do you think?"

He smiles at my awkward closing, "Zoe, I think…" he trails off and for a moment, I panic. "I think that is something I can help you with," he says slowly, he smiles. I smile back and look down at my lap, too happy for words.

He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. "I've waited since May for you to realize just what a stupid plan 'dating other people' was." We both laugh. "Look, I want this to work too. And I've given this moment a lot of thought over the last several months, hoping our day would come. And, if it's ok with you, I'd like to take things slowly. I want you to have a real relationship- with a real first date and everything." Addie and her big mouth… there really are no secrets in a small town. "Do things right," he continues. I nod in agreement.

"I'm new at this," I tease, "So, where do we go from here?" Smiling, as he drawls gentlemanly, "Now, Ms. Hart, I take you home. And then, I'll call you later to set up our first date."

He takes my hand and helps me up from the bench. Just as I did on the boat, I feel the electricity when he touches me. Hand in hand we walk to his truck and he drives me home.

He opens my door and helps me from the truck. We stand at my door and he says, "I'll call you later." "Goodnight," I reply. "Goodnight, Ms. Hart," he squeezes my hand and turns toward his truck. Always the southern gentleman…

I open my door and walk to my room. My cell phone rings. I look down. The display says "George Tucker." With a laugh I answer it.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner on Saturday?"

"Hmmm," I reply, "I'll have to check my calendar… why yes, I believe I AM free on Saturday."

He laughs, "Then, I will pick you up at 7:00." 

"It's a date, Mr. Tucker." 

"It sure is, Zoe Hart. Goodnight." 

Smiling, I get ready for bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday cannot get here soon enough. I've never been so excited, or so nervous… which is stupid. This is GEORGE!

We've run into each other a few times this week. In the Rammer Jammer, in town square- each time prompting shy smiles and short conversations, but we've kept it brief- waiting for Saturday. I think he's as excited as I am. He won't tell me where we're going.

/

The big day arrives. My first real first date. I won't stand this one up. I take extra care getting ready. I feel like a high schooler. Too bad I don't have a girlfriend to giggle with.

Finally, it's 7:00 and there's a knock on my door. Of course he'd be on time.

I open the door to see him standing on my porch smiling nervously. Nervous George is cute. 

Who am I kidding? All Georges are cute. I feel like he's becoming a strange collection of dwarves in my head- Sleepy, Sleepwalking and now Nervous… "Hi," I say eloquently. "Hi," he returns. We both look down and laugh.

"You ready to go?" he asks. "Yes," I reply. He holds out his hand for mine and we head to the truck. I don't think I'll ever get tired of holding hands with George. "So where are we going?" 

"Mobile," he replies, but will say no more. We pass the time in the truck talking about our week.

As we near downtown Mobile I notice it's crowded. People are everywhere. "What's going on?" I wonder aloud. "Bayfest- it's a music festival." I laugh. There really is SOMETHING going on every week down here.

During dinner we talk about our childhoods and I realize how much I DON'T know about George.  
Afterwards, we walk to Bienville Square and the music festival. We sit on a bench near the fountain and listen as the band plays.

George turns to me, a serious look on his face, "There's something I wanted to ask you about." 

"Sure," I say, mystified. "The other night, when I woke up…" he hesitates, then continues, "We were kissing… How'd that happen?"

I turn 4 shades of purple. "Ummm… well… that was kinda my fault…" What can I say? He's waiting for the rest- better get it over with. "Well, you were asleep on the boat deck and when I tried to get you to go back to bed, you still thought I was your girlfriend," I explain. "Something about how you were looking at me…" How can I explain this…? "The tension between us all night and I was confused …" I'm nearly incoherent in my jumble of words. "I asked you if we were happy, and you were so sincere and so sure of us and it just happened. I'm so sorry."

"Zoe, don't be sorry- I wasn't mad- I just wanted to know how our third kiss occurred- since I don't really remember it." He grins at me. "Though I don't know that it should really count, if one of us wasn't conscious for it…" I give a small laugh. "We have quite the record, kiss-wise don't we," he muses. "The first, I was so far in denial I should have been in Egypt, the second, you had Wade in the next room and the third- I nearly slept through!" He laughs. I'm glad he finds it funny. Put like that, I look pretty bad.

"How about we reset the clock- and count our next one as our first?" I suggest. He looks at me, assessing, "If you would rather, but personally, I don't want to forget any moments with you, good, bad or strange." He smiles again. I'm still nervous and he seems so happy. But then, sharing is new for me.

The band begins to play a slow song. George stands and offers me his hand. "May I have this dance?" Like I'd refuse. I place my hand in his and we move toward the crowd already dancing.

The night is beautiful, and you can just see the stars through the canopy of oak trees. I look up at George and we smile. "So, is this supposed to be our first dance too?" he jokes.

"No, you're right. We are where we are tonight because of where we've been. The good and the bad." I rest my head against his shoulder. "And I wouldn't trade this for a thousand perfect moments."

"I'm glad we agree," he says. "But I hope to create a thousand perfect moments with you, and then some." I melt.

We continue our dance in comfortable silence. Another song begins and we continue to dance. He must know this one, because I hear him softly singing in my ear. He has a beautiful voice.  
When the song ends, he leads me back to our bench. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. I lean back and look up at the stars. His hand finds mine. We sit and enjoy the closeness for a while. This is a luxury I could get used to. I start to doze. He notices and suggests we head home. Not wanting this night to end, I protest.

"Let's get you home, you get some sleep and tomorrow, come over to my place early and I'll make you breakfast. We'll spend the day together," he promises. It sounds like he already had this planned out. "Ok, let's go home then," I agree.

The ride home goes too quickly. Again, we share stories from growing up. It's funny how different his childhood was from mine. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Are there two more different places than Bluebell and New York City?

/

He walks me up the steps to my house. "I had a really nice time tonight," he begins. I smile at the memory of the first time he said that to me. He brushes his hand down my upper arm. 

Apparently he remembers too. Our eyes meet, and after only a moment of hesitation, he leans toward me. I meet his lips with mine.

Before we get carried away, he pulls back, "I meant it when I said I wanted to take it slow with you, Zoe. It would be easy to get swept away and rush things, and I don't want that for us." At the moment, rushing things doesn't sound so bad… but he's right. Let's do this right.

Holding my gaze, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. And with a squeeze, he releases it at my side. "I'll see you in the morning, Zoe." 

"Sweet dreams, George."

Tomorrow cannot come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really is a Bayfest Music Festival in Mobile- but it's acutally a month earlier than it occurs in this story.


	6. Chapter 6

I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling, again. But this time my thoughts are happier. I should really sleep, tomorrow will come quicker, but I just can't.

I think about our dinner, and how his eyes lit up as he was telling stories about his childhood. His face animated as he described the pranks he and his brother would play on each other. Laughing, while recounting the look on his mother's face when she discovered, as she put up the laundry, that they'd brought a half dozen bullfrogs home one afternoon.

I think about how intensely he watched me, absorbed as I told stories of growing up in Manhattan. As if I were telling the most fascinating story he'd ever heard.

I actually ENJOYED sharing myself with him and adored getting to know him better. I wonder what his favorite color is… or his middle name…

I remember him asking me about kissing him on his houseboat- that was awkward.

I remember how buoyant he was all night. Jubilant even. It's a bit staggering to think that I could cause such euphoria. Of course, I was happier and less guarded last night than I can ever remember being- I've never told anyone about the time I ran away from home and spent the day at the Museum of Natural History- at closing, the guards called my mother when I refused to leave.

I remember dancing with him under the stars, the feel of his arms around me. The sound of his voice singing along- I need to ask what song it was so I can download it.

And sitting on the bench, feeling the warmth of his body through my shirt as we looked at the stars, his arm around me, my hand threaded through his, is there a more wonderful feeling?

I feel sorta silly obsessing over every detail like this- like a teenager giddy over her first love… which stands to reason I suppose, as I've never really been in love before. What a pair we are- he's only been in love once and I never have been.

I think about breakfast tomorrow and wonder what he's cooking. How sexy is a man that can cook? As if George needed to be good at something else.

I finally feel myself getting sleepy, and I dream about a thousand perfect moments with George.

/

I wake up early, get ready and head to George's. An entire day with him!

I knock on his door and he appears, spatula in hand, smiling back at me. "Good morning, Ms. Hart."

"Good morning," I reply.

"Did you sleep well?" he inquires. 

"Not long, but yes," I say, smiling back.

"Trouble sleeping?" he seems concerned. 

I smile- I can't stop doing that, "Just thinking about last night."

He grins, "Me too." He turns toward the kitchen, "So, how do you like your eggs?" 

"Ummm, scrambled is fine," I say distractedly. I take in the buffet of food- pancakes, bacon, sausage, country ham, grits, oatmeal, French toast, potatoes, biscuits, toast, bagels, coffee, orange juice, tea… I look at George, "How many are we expecting for breakfast?" 

He laughs, "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I made everything! Help yourself."

I make a plate as he finishes my eggs. We take our food to his small kitchen table. I realize I'm starving, and dig in. The food is amazing. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"Well, I thought we could spend the morning here, then pack a lunch and walk along the beach and then come back here and watch a movie." 

I nod, "I think that sounds great."

We finish our breakfast and take our coffee to the couch. He sits in the corner and pats the seat beside him. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close.

I look at him and I remember I had questions for him. "So, I was thinking last night, I don't know your middle name or your favorite color." 

He laughs, "And I don't know yours."

"Why don't we play a game? I'll ask a question, you answer it and then you can either ask it back or you can ask a new question. After two questions, we switch and the other person asks first," I suggest- I'm proud of myself. I'm volunteering to give up information about myself.

He considers my offer, "Hmmm… I dunno, is anything off limits?"

Panic. What does he want to know? Breathe. You can do this, "Nope." I try to make it sound nonchalant. 

"Ok, I'm in," he agrees.

We start simple- favorite colors, numbers, sports teams, our middle names, and then the questions get deeper.

"So when did you first realize you had feelings for me?" he asks. 

"Umm, the first day I was in Bluebell," I reply without thinking. 

"No," he says- "ACTUAL feelings, not just an attraction."

I suppose I should be glad that he's making me keep my promise to open up. Still, it's not easy. "You do realize I get to ask you the same question, right?" I retort. 

"I'm not afraid," he responds.

I think back, "Well, I guess when we met at the movie in Mobile. Talking with you at the café, I opened up more to you, than I ever did to anyone. And when you got hurt later that night, and we were alone in my office… I felt it. When Lemon burst in… it was like a good dream had just ended. I remember thinking how stupid it was to feel that way about someone so unavailable… and yet, I couldn't stop myself. It kept growing stronger…" I trail off, he knows the rest. I sigh.

"Ok, you? When did YOU first know you had feelings for me?"

He looks at me for a long moment, "For me, it was a process. I think I knew, long before I was willing to admit it to myself. You intrigued me from the moment we met. When I 'rescued' you from Burt Reynolds," I laugh at the memory. 

"I couldn't stop thinking about how you felt in my arms as I scooped you out of the mud- I told myself that was because I'd only ever held Lemon like that and so it was a novelty. But, when you told me you were leaving that day at the pier, I really didn't like watching you walk away from me. And when you stayed, I found your determination to fit in, to keep Harley's part of the practice endearing. I found myself defending you to Lemon and Brick- really the whole town- which I told myself was just being a kind person. You deserved a chance- and not many were willing to give you that at first."

"Talking with you about New York, that's something I couldn't share with anyone else. No one else understood why I liked the big city, certainly not Lemon. I felt drawn to you- and the way you handled Brick taking all the credit for saving that man's life- impressed me." He pauses, remembering, "I was so angry at him for that."

"I watched you become a more caring and compassionate person than the one who got in my truck complaining about exile and Purgatory." I elbow him in the ribs. He smiles and continues, "But I convinced myself that it was just the beginning of a close friendship."

"Our 'movie night' in Mobile was special for me too. I think we both shared things with each other that, well, we'd never told anyone else." He stops. "In your office that night, I told myself it was the pain killers, but when I was finally honest with myself, I realized there was something there- when Lemon came in, it felt like an intrusion." He takes a breath, "But it wasn't until Christmas that I admitted it, to Wade of all people, that there was a 'spark' between us. Even so, I was so committed to Lemon, that I continued to deny it meant anything."

"Then, I found out how you felt at my MOTY dinner." I blush at the memory- that was embarrassing. "And then, my dad…" his voice gets rough, "Zoe, you calling your father meant so much to me, because I knew what it meant to you." I think back to that night in the hospital. The first time he held my hand. He clears his throat, "But still, I couldn't face my feelings- I just denied them harder." He laughs suddenly- that seems odd, I shoot him a questioning look. 

"Sorry, your dad… he INTERROGATED me at dinner that night. I tried so hard to convince him that we were only friends, but he knew. I guess I knew too, but man, did he make me uncomfortable. I wasn't ready to face it. But then, I saw… well, you know." I nod. "And you were the only person I confided in. And when I ran away from it, you were the person I wanted by my side. I guess that's when I finally truly admitted it to myself."

He falls silent, as we both remember our night in New Orleans. "Zoe, you helped me hide when I needed to hide, and you led me home when it was time to deal with what had happened." He gets somber, "And then, after all you did for me, I betrayed you."

"George..." I don't want to dwell on that. And, it's hardly like I was perfect through everything…

"I knew it wasn't right with Lemon, that it hadn't been in months- but I let others cloud my judgment and convince me of feelings that just weren't there anymore. I guess I'd always done what was expected of me and I didn't know how to or want to let anyone down. And I hurt you, and I am so…"

Wanting to end this conversation and his self-flagellation, I turn in my seat and kiss him.


	7. Chapter 7

As our kisses become more intense, I try to get more comfortable. I twist further around. Months of pent up feelings cause all restraint to go out the window. I'm lost in George. As he leans into me, my head hits the armrest- literally knocking me back to my senses, and I suddenly realize George is nearly on top of me. As much as I'm enjoying this, and where it's headed, I want to respect his wish to take things slow- and besides, it's probably a good idea.

I started this, I suppose I should be the one to try to end it. Man, I don't want to end this…

/

George's POV

Whoa, one minute I'm trying to apologize for being so cavalier with Zoe's heart and the next minute, she's kissing me.

My head is filled with Zoe. She's in my arms at last and I'm not inclined to let her go. 'Taking things slow' be damned. She curls into me and I lean forward to get closer. I try to roll from sitting as I reach for the bottom of her shirt. Her head hits the armrest. WHY am I so clumsy?

/

Zoe's POV

As his hands find the hem of my shirt, I break our kiss. "George," I say breathlessly, "while I'm TOTALLY fine with continuing this… elsewhere, if you're not then perhaps we should pack that lunch now." His eyes are dark as he looks at me, weighing his options.

/

George's POV

My better judgment takes over, I take a deep breath, we have time- nothing is coming between us now. "Zoe," my voice ragged, "I don't want you to think I don't want to 'continue this'- I really do, believe me, I really, REALLY do, but I also really want to do right by you, by us." I curse my conscience just a little bit.

/

Zoe's POV

Right has so many definitions at the moment…

We untangle ourselves and get up from the couch. Together, we tidy the kitchen, make sandwiches and assemble the rest of our lunch. I pack everything in a small cooler and we walk outside, hand in hand.

/

We're both lost in thought- I'm not sure where his are, but mine keep going back to his hands roaming my body… and his lips on mine. WHY did I stop us again? Stupid, stupid, stupid… 

Being responsible sucks…

We reach the beach. We set our cooler on the blanket we brought. I lay down to soak up some of the last rays of the fall sun.

Breaking the silence, George says, "I think it's your turn to ask a question." I prop myself up on my elbows to look at him. I consider my options, "What were you thinking when you told that couple we were engaged?"

"You do realize I get to ask you the same question, right?" he jokes. "I'm not afraid," I echo his earlier answer, which is totally a lie- maybe I should have asked a different question.

Well, there's no going back now and he has to answer first. Stalling, he starts setting out our food. He looks pensive.

"I wasn't thinking, not really. That day was all about doing. I was so determined to show I was over Lemon- and what she'd done- I went a bit crazy. But it was some of the most fun I'd had in my life."

"I realized that Lemon and I were always so concerned with how others saw us that we lost sight of who we really were. It was the first time, since I'd run away to New York, that I'd done anything I wanted to do, for me, not for someone else. Or, without worrying about what others would think."

"When they said they were on their honeymoon- I just had this sudden picture of what could be…" he trails off. 

 

"And?" I ask. 

"Ummm… I don't want to scare you off on our second day together," he smiles sheepishly.

"Oh no, you are not getting off that easily, not if you expect me to answer the question."

He sighs and continues, "Well, I saw us, as happy and carefree as they were. The idea of being married to you made me so happy. And it felt like we were on vacation anyway- taking a break from reality- so being on our honeymoon didn't seem like much of a stretch… and I just went with it." Now he looks nervous, "So, what were you thinking when I said that?"

I laugh, "Honestly, I was thinking, 'WHAT?! This denial is worse than I thought.' I really thought you'd lost it. But then I warmed to the idea. It's fun to play make-believe sometimes. And I wasn't opposed to the idea of being a newlywed with you." I smirk, "But I don't know how we're possibly going to top our imaginary honeymoon… " I pause, it's too soon to be talking about marriage and honeymoons… we're only on our second day as an official couple.

"We'll think of something," he assures me. "So, what's your next question?" he asks quickly, either he noticed my discomfort with the turn in the conversation or he thinks it's too soon too. I hope I didn't unnerve him with my answer, or my reaction...

"Ummm," I really don't have one at the moment. But there is something I want to do… "Can I kiss you?" I grin impishly at him.

He laughs, but his answer is serious, silent, and thorough. I wait for his follow up question. 

"Same question," he says quickly. I try to make my answer as complete as his.

Finally, he stops us, "Ok, let's go home… I mean, back to my house…" He's cute when he's flustered. We pack up and head back.

/

We pick a movie and get settled on the couch. Once again, I think about what a luxury cuddling with George is. I wonder if I'll ever get used to it.

The movie is one I've seen- one of my favorites actually, but my sleepless night/early morning is catching up with me. I drift off to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't mind the snippet of George's thoughts here, I got kinda stuck and tried things from his perspective to see if that helped (it did). I liked that part so much, I wanted to keep it. Writing George is fun. :) Plus, this chapter was pretty short.


	8. Chapter 8

The next thing I remember is waking up. Outside, it's dark. I look over at George and notice he's watching me. 

"Good evening," he says quietly. "It was nice waking up to you in my arms."

Seriously? We're going to have to keep the temperature in the house set to 32° to keep me from turning into a puddle every time he speaks.

Oh well, at least I wasn't the only one who fell asleep. I nuzzle closer and he kisses me on my forehead. Is it sad how much I enjoy a small intimacy such as that? I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

His stomach growls, killing the mood, "Well, I suppose we should feed you," I joke, "before your stomach eats your liver."

We eat, we talk, we clean the kitchen and we do the crossword puzzle in the paper. A nice domestic evening at home.

It's incredible how comfortable everything is. How easy it's been.

/

We're sitting on the couch, watching TV- neither of us have spoken in a while, we've just enjoyed each other's company. But, it's getting late. Neither of us has mentioned the time. I think we're both avoiding the topic. I don't really want to go home…

The show ends and he reaches for the remote, the TV goes blank.

He looks at me, with a serious expression. "Zoe," he begins, "if you're ok with the idea, I'd love for you to stay- just to sleep," he emphasizes. "I really enjoyed waking up to you earlier and I'm not ready to watch you leave yet. I had more than a year of that..." he trails off.

"Of course I'll stay." Like I WANT to leave?

"Then, Zoe Hart, let's go to bed." How wonderful that sounds to my ears. He stands and holds out his hand to help me off the couch. I take his hand and he leads me to his room. I realize that I don't have anything with me.

"Umm…" I start awkwardly, "I don't have any pajamas." 

"Borrow whatever you like," he gestures at his dresser. 

I pull out a t-shirt and shorts and laugh. These are going to be HUGE on me.

I take the clothes to the bathroom to change. The shirt hangs nearly to my knees and I have to keep one hand on the shorts or they fall.

When I get back to the room, I stop dead in my tracks. George is sitting on the edge of the bed- wearing only a pair of flannel pants.

I think my heart just stopped.

He sees me standing, staring. I quickly close my mouth. He stands up and, seeing my reaction, quickly offers to put on a shirt. REALLY? He thinks my paralysis is because I OBJECT to the sight before me?! I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart…

"If you put on a shirt, I'm leaving," I tell him…I'm mostly joking. I've waited a LONG time to see this… I think back to Halloween- this is so much better. I can touch him now… hmmm… no time like the present.

I walk up and put my arms around him. And tilt my face back for a kiss. He complies immediately, and I use this opportunity to explore the beautiful, shirtless body pressed against mine with my hands.

Wow… just… wow.

Taking it slow with George is harder than opening up my heart to him. Eventually, he pulls away. I can see the effort it took to do so in his eyes. Good to know he's struggling with this as much as I am.

"Come on, let's go to bed," I suggest. I climb in and he lays down beside me on his back. I snuggle up next to him and lightly trace patterns on his chest. In the darkness, I can see his smile. It mirrors my own.

I'm not sure when, but at some point, I fall asleep.

/

It's still dark when I wake up. I squint at the clock, it's 4:00. By the light of the clock I can see George's silhouette. I watch him sleep for a few minutes. I wonder what he's dreaming about.

I realize just how strongly I feel for this man. We may have only been together for 2 days, but my feelings (and his) have been building for months. I know his character- his kindness, his giving nature, his care for others- from months of observation and friendship. I know he is funny and smart and that we have much in common. And the physical attraction…. Well, there is no question there.

Would it be wrong to admit, two days into our 'official' relationship that I loved this man? I laugh in my head, I can't help but compare myself now to the me of 18 months ago… I mean, I told my ex I loved him, but clearly I didn't really know what the word meant… the depth of my feelings is so much MORE with George than it ever was with anyone else before. Who knew such a thing was possible?

I know he feels the same. It's not like I'm risking getting turned down… but is it too soon? He wants to take things slow… But, how slow can we really go? We're so far past the 'get to know you' stage that is usually the reason for going slow.

I've made my decision, I doubt he'll object too much… Time to find out.

I begin gently tracing circles on his chest and shoulder. I lean up on my elbow and shift so I can kiss his jaw, and trail my kisses down his neck. I've just reached his collarbone when he wakes up. He pulls my face to his.

'"Morning," he says after he breaks our kiss. 

"'Morning," I repeat.

"Are you awake enough to talk?" I inquire. 

"Mmm, sure," he says sleepily.

I sit up and turn to face him. He does the same. "Everything ok?" he looks worried. 

"Everything's great," I assure him, "better than great really. I've been laying here thinking." That seems to be my thing now- thinking instead of sleeping…

"George," I hesitate. I didn't think about HOW to do this… oh well, he's up now. "George, I've thought about it and I think you should know; I love you." I stop for a moment to relish the first telling. "I've never felt before what I feel for you. I know it seems too soon and I know you wanted to take things slow, but frankly, I'm sure. And I just wanted you to know," I finish lamely. It's a good thing I'm not the lawyer, my closing arguments suck.

He looks surprised. And then he looks down at his hands. Oh no, it WAS too soon. The silence seems to last forever. He finally looks at me. "Zoe, ARE you sure? I mean, I know I love you, I've known that since I called off my wedding. But, I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. You don't have to do this now. I'm fine taking things as slow as you need to."

This is not how I pictured this going- though admittedly, I didn't plan this part much. "George, I'm sure. I think that 'taking things slowly' was a great theory, but we've been through the initial relationship stuff, before we ever dated. If pretending our previous kisses didn't count was crazy, than so is pretending we're starting a brand new relationship. All that time getting to know each other counts too," I trail off.

"And, I know that I love you, completely, totally, and with my whole heart," I try to say this with all the confidence and sincerity I feel.

He hasn't taken his eyes off my face. His eyes continue to search my face for several long moments- I guess checking for some sign of hesitation or doubt. There is none. 

He looks into my eyes as I stare back into his. "I love you, Zoe Hart." 

"And I love you, George Tucker." It feels wonderful to say it and at last, really mean it.

His answering kiss is tender and filled with all the love we've just professed to one another.

But, just like every other time, it quickly becomes more urgent. This time though, neither of us are inclined to stop anything. 

Our happily ever after starts now.


End file.
